On a Happier “Note”…

 

…here’s my Mom, doing what she loves best.

She turned 84 on the Fourth of July.  We had celebrated the Sunday before with a screening of Lawrence of Arabia (the first time for her and Madame BOF, both of whom loved it), part of Film Forum’s Alec Guinness centennial tribute, and a lovely dinner of paella for me and tapas for the ladies at Café Espanol, one of my old hangouts from when the Movie Knights and I worked a block away at Penguin USA.

 

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Goodbye

I’m so glad I posted that photo.  We lost Rex a little while ago.

I had just submitted my latest post for Marvel University, and was checking my e-mail with my right hand while cradling a snoozing Rexy on my left arm—a familiar sight.  Suddenly, he jumped up with a bewildered look, as if to say, “Where the heck am I?,” as though he’d woken up from a bad dream, turned around, gasped a couple of times, and that was it.

He died two years to the day after his original nominal foster mother, Diane.  He outlived his expected lifespan by about five months, must have been relieved to spend his last couple of weeks not lugging that big tumor around, clearly felt little if any pain, and literally died in a loving embrace.  We should all be so lucky.

None of which is any consolation in the short run to a devastated Loreen.  It’s only now, after about an hour, that I’ve been able to bring myself to put him down.  I just kept him cradled in my arms, absurdly petting him, because somehow if I was still holding him, he would just be sleeping, but if I put him down, he would be really and truly dead.

We’ve got tickets to Cabaret for tonight.  Can’t wait.

Goodbye, little guy.  I loved you more than I ever thought possible.  I’m crying too hard to write any more.  Thank you all for your prayers and support.

Bradley out.

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